Five opinions, three voice notes, one screenshot. By the time I text him I am not me. I am a committee in a tight dress.
Tag: confidence
I want the warm-up first. Then I want you to mean it. Soft the whole way through feels like you are frightened of me really.
The sex ended and the customer service started. I do not want a form. I want you to read my body and then shut up.
Serious sex makes me watch myself. A stupid joke knocks the performance out. Filthy and funny is not a mood. It is the whole method.
There is a difference and you can feel it immediately. Hold me there. Do not treat my head like some handle from cheap porn films.
I want the sentence you would actually say. Not a script you borrowed. Awkward and filthy beats cinematic and fake. I hear the difference immediately.
Giving it time is grown. Stretching a maybe for months is not depth. Some people call it patience when they just enjoy the attention buffet.
Vulnerability is treated like an ick now. I joke instead. Then I want to say it in daylight and my mouth does that stupid freeze.
No name talk. No job talk. No story about the week. Just a dark room and a warm body that does not need a biography.
The chase was fun. Then I texted first in daylight and the spark died. Some men only want the me that leaves at dawn anyway.